


The action or power of evoking interest, pleasure, or liking for someone or something

by AnnaAalora



Series: Life in Another World [2]
Category: Another World | Out of this World (Video Game)
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, M/M, POV Second Person, Romance, Slow build up for relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5867752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaAalora/pseuds/AnnaAalora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You wish you could work out the right way to respond to the fact that your alien friend seems completely captivated by you, and process your own feelings on the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The action or power of evoking interest, pleasure, or liking for someone or something

In the past, during periods of convalescence, you had no issues recovering without outside assistance. You would quietly excuse yourself from your obligations and retreat to your apartment, enfolding yourself in sheet and blankets until you woke up sweaty and thirsty and tangled up in the covers, with the sun glowing around the drawn shades and the room at least ten degrees too warm. You would repeat the process, until the fever or cold had abated, and you could resume your normal activities.

But every illness or injury you had previously suffered in no way matched what you were currently enduring. You cannot remember an incident outside of childhood where you were so incapacitated that another party was required to help you through it. Yet, after being slammed into a wall and kicked across the room by a being more than twice your size, on top of every other laceration and abrasion you accrued, you are hardly going to object to the care and concern you are being given in abundance.

You recall how the fever you had during your early recovery fogged your senses to the extent you were unable to tell if you were in reality or trapped in some bizarre dream; your body’s attempts to mend and burn any infections out of your system had played funny tricks on your perception. Sometimes you would have short bursts of vivid fever dreams and wake up to your alien companion drawing a cold cloth across your forehead and not be sure you were actually awake at all. 

He seemed loath to leave you alone before he was sure you had drifted off again, and you found yourself not wanting him to leave you, either. In more than one instance you awoke after dreaming of red eyes and flooded caves to find him sitting on the bed next to you with a fond, patient expression, yourself apparently having latched on to his hand or arm while in the grips of your nightmare. It was unclear if had had arrived to find you in a bad state or if he had never left at all, but he had still enfolded your hand in both of his large ones when you attempted to pull away out of embarrassment, and didn’t let go until your breathing evened out. 

As you are much more recovered now, thanks to his attentions, situations such as those happen with much less frequency. Uncharacteristically, you find yourself wishing for more of the contact and the comfort it brought you, but you feel hopelessly embarrassed to initiate it without the excuse of fever-induced delirium. 

You are so engrossed in your thoughts that you don’t realize your companion has entered the room until you feel a gentle hand on your forehead and look up to see him leaning over you. He starts rearranging the pillows behind you before sliding his hands under your shoulders and helping you to sit up. There is a cloying smell in the air, and when your hands are suddenly wrapped around a cup your realize it is more of the strange, sweet tea he had coaxed you to drink back when hyperthermia had made you think you were being burned alive. 

Your companion settles himself at the foot of the bed after giving you the cup; it is not uncommon for him to come and keep you company whenever you are awake. You sip until a third of the cup is gone. The warmth is nice but the taste quickly becomes too much for you, and you set it down by the bed for later. When you face forward again, you involuntarily jerk back to find your companion's fingers an inch away from your face. 

You switch your gaze from his hand to his face. He strokes your cheek once, and then leaning forward a little more from where he is sitting, he repeats the action with deliberation and watches your reaction. You aren’t exactly sure of the expression on your face, nor can you make yourself break eye contact, but he seems to be pleased by whatever it is he sees.

He brings his other arm up so he is now cupping your face in his large hands. He gently brushes his fingers over the contours of your face and threads his fingers through your hair, making some sort of noise that is between a purr and a low, happy hum. 

You lean into the touch. You have a vague awareness that you are smiling at him, and he is looking back at you with incredible affection. In some part of your foggy brain you realize the both of you are leaning much closer to each other than when this began. His hands migrate down to your neck, and then to your shoulders, thumbs working in slow circles. They finally slide down to your waist where he slips the tips of his fingers under your shirt. The encouraging noise you make in your throat is completely out of character, but entirely earnest, and with this he shifts forward and pulls you flush against his body. 

He feels warm and strong and safe, and he smells good. At this point, you would have just halted any further train of thought, but whatever trance you have been under up until now is shattered by a wave of arousal through your body so strong and unfamiliar to you that it pulls you back to thinking instead of feeling. The sensation makes you hyper aware of the position you are in, and you immediately try to squirm away, pushing against his chest.

Your companion lets go the instant he feel resistance from you. You can feel your face flaming, and when you look up you see your wide-eyed expression mirrored in his own. He looks startled and confused at your sudden retreat, arms still outstretched but not making a move to bring you to him again. You push yourself back into the pillows to put a little more distance between the two of you, and with this he lets his arms drop somewhat dejectedly. The only sound in the room is the rustling of the blankets as you gather them to your chest in an attempt to regain some of your composure. If he can also hear your pounding heartbeat, you would not be surprised. 

After an uncomfortably long period of silence he gives a huff, and then you feel the bed dip as he rises from where he is sitting. When you glance up at him, not sure of what he might do next or how he might have processed your reaction, all you see is a tender expression and relaxed demeanor. He leans forward again and you tense up, but he is simply retrieving the remainder of your tea and handing it to you. While you blink at the cup, your companion caresses your still flushed cheek one more time and makes the same low, affectionate noise you heard earlier, before withdrawing from the room after one last glance back at you. 

Now that you are alone, you let out a deep breath. The tea no longer appeals to you in the slightest, and the sickly sweet smell is unpleasant. You put it back down, and carefully ease your self back down into a horizontal position. You roll onto your side, pulling the blankets tightly around your shoulders. It takes a while for you to fall asleep, and when you finally do, the contents of your dreams wake you up many times during the night.


End file.
